Followers
Sunday, January 28, 2007
A good hair day?
I carefully read the instructions and decided that I was well capable of following them. I had watched what the hair dresser did on numerous occasions, and it was not beyond me! That said – she made it look a lot easier than it was! The front of the head was do-able, but the back of the head was plain guess-work. I was trying to cover the roots first, leave the colour to fix for a while, and then “refresh” the rest of the hair – see, I even know the right jargon!
Contrary to what most pupils think – teachers do not have eyes in the back of their heads – they would have been most useful! In the end I looked like the woman in the diagrams on the instruction sheet. I also felt like I usually feel in the hairdresser – things were going well.
I ruined a perfectly good jumper by not following the instruction of putting a towel over the shoulders. It said “non-drip cream”, but it did drip!
The end result is a head of rich auburn hair with no grey roots! It is much darker than I anticipated, much darker than it has been for years. My once natural shade was very dark brown, almost black with a kind of blue/blackness to it. This is kind of that dark but with a red hint to it. I keep catching glimpses of me in mirrors and doing a double take.
I am however rather impressed – that it is not orange, that the box did what it said it would do, that I have saved a LOT of money, that I have done something I consider quite courageous and that I can live with it for the next three months!.
My husband, Joe, gave me the once over and decided that, yes, it was very dark, perhaps a shade darker on the top than at the bottom – but like it is supposed to be like that, and not an unintentional effect. He also looked at his own hair greying at the temples and asked if I had used all the colour in the hair kit. Seeing as I haven’t made a mess of my own head, he thinks he might entrust his own into my enthusiastic but unskilled hands!
Incidentally my mother always used to cut my dad’s hair. In the early days of our marriage, I offered to cut Joe’s hair – thinking that it was what wives did to their husbands. Joe looked horrified! He made it quite clear that the day I take a pair of scissors to his head is the day we divorce.
Incidentally, he also has bushy eyebrows. His sister took me to task one day for not “tidying them up”. She is the kind of woman that would tie him to a chair, firmly tell him not to be a baby and sit still while she snipped away! I am not made of such stern stuff!
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Impossible?
The universe was made
That in the stars, the moon, the earth
Your splendour is displayed
Impossible that with Your hands
From clay You fashioned man
Your breath released brought forth his birth
And so new life began
Impossible that You would choose
To be his closest friend
To walk with him through pastures green
Until his journey’s end
Impossible that he did turn
To tread his wayward track
Rebellious heart, and soiled soul
On You he turned his back
Impossible that You could know
The wicked heart of man
And still because Your love compels
Conceive redemption’s plan
Impossible that You were born
Into this fragile world
And whipped and crucified by man
Salvation was unfurled
Impossible You gladly bore
The sins of all mankind
That at the cross the debt is paid
Abundant grace we find
Impossible that you could gift
Forgiveness full, complete
That when the prodigal comes home
You kiss and gladly greet
Impossible that man’s wild heart
Is tamed beneath his breast
And humbly bowed before Your throne
He finds eternal rest
Impossible? To You? Not so
The One enthroned on high
I join with angels in their praise
“My Lord, My God,” I cry
© Melanie Kerr Jan 2007
Monday, January 08, 2007
Three threesomes
Just lately I have been finding these threesomes as I read the Bible and other books. I was reading an interview with Os Guinness. I am currently reading one of his books and thought I would find out a little bit more about the man. He doesn’t have a holy huddle mentality and is not afraid to explore not just why he is a Christian, but also why he is not a Muslim or a Hindu. In the interview, he mentioned that he had spent a lot of time with another theologian and was asked what he had learned from the man. He said that he admired the man for his passion for God, his passion for people and his passion for truth. I like that threesome. I like the word passion. I like the way that it is balanced – God, people and truth.
Another threesome I read was in the end chapters of Jeremiah. A remnant of Israelites who had not been taken off to Babylon with the rest of the nation had ran to Egypt thinking they would get away from the war and the poverty, rather than trusting in God. Jeremiah told them clearly that their actions meant that God no longer considered them His people. They hadn’t shown humility, they had failed to give God reverence and they had not obeyed His word. If failing to do these things takes us away from God, the opposite must also be true – God will draw us near to Himself if we are humble, if we revere Him and if we seek to obey His commands. Working out the practicalities of that threesome has got to be very challenging.
The threesome I read this morning was in the opening verses of the book of Revelation. Things are written there which Jesus wants us to know that we might be more effective witnesses. The more we know about Jesus and his intentions, the more we can work with Him. The instruction here was to read the words, to hear it and to take to heart what is written. Sometimes we stop at the reading bit of it, and do not give our hearts a chance to hear the words in our hearts as the Holy Spirit ignites it. Until the Spirit ignites the words, they seldom get taken to heart in a life changing way.
Three threesomes:-
Passion for God
Passion for people
Passion for the truth
Being humble
Being reverent
Being obedient
The word read
The word heard
The word taken to heart
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Built up and planted
I was really encouraged reading these words this morning. Over the last few weeks or so I have been thinking about moving issues, wondering whether I am in the place where God has placed me in – church wise and job wise. Sometimes when things get difficult you begin to think that you must be in the wrong place precisely because things are so difficult! If you really were where God had placed you then things would progress much more smoothly. Things would just fall into place.
Maybe things get so difficult because the enemy would like to see you anywhere other then where God wants you to be.
Built up and planted are very deliberate actions. You don’t build a wall or plant a garden by accident. God’s actions towards me are not accidental either. They don’t happen just by-the-way.
God is appealing for an act of trust – He will do the building and the planting – if we allow him to. Sometimes we are too quick to build things and plant things that are not on God’s heart for us. When He builds something, He builds it properly and there is no need to tear it down. When He plants it is exactly where he wants it to be, so there is no need to uproot it at a later date.
God building and planting in my life are conditional on the basis that I stay – in His presence, in His purposes, in His Covenant, in Him.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
The Journey
I digress! The book has an interesting chapter on life being like a journey. When Jesus said to Peter and Andrew, and later James and John, and later still Matthew, “Follow me!” it was an invitation to join him on a journey. In this life we never reach a place where we have arrived, and all of us are somewhere along the route. Life is not static and settled, although we often live like is. We are not wanderers because we know where we are heading and we have the company of the Holy Spirit to guide us there. Not everyone has the same milestones that we have on their journey. They have the same destination but might not be walking at the same pace, or taking notice of the same landscapes.
I can remember, during my time in Cyprus, every year the school held a sponsored walk. It was not a five mile stroll, but a really difficult hike. The route was twenty five miles and began high in the Troodos mountains, and ended a few miles west of the city of Limmasol. It took in forests and vineyards, old monasteries and almond tree orchards. There were bits of it that followed a tarmac road uphill for two or three miles, while another section of the walk was following a goat trail along the top of a hill. It was a picturesque route, but very challenging!
The route remained pretty much the same year in year out, but the company changed as old students left and new ones arrived. You began the walk with member from one class, for them to decide to race on ahead somewhere further down the line. You caught up with another group, perhaps as they stopped to catch their breath at the top of the hill.
This is what Christian life is like – different people along the route. Sometimes they walk a few miles with you, sometimes it may be just a few hundred yards. Maybe they just wave as they overtake!
I was thinking about the people I had walked with for a while. I say people, but I mean just one person – my friend, Shona. I missed her company and decided to seek her out, just to find out how she was doing. She has stopped along the route, she is spiritually sitting down by the side of the road, perhaps catching her breathe, perhaps hoping for a sympathetic driver to come along and offer her a lift!
We invited herself and Patrick and Shannon to lunch on New Year’s Day. Joe entertained the kids – they were showing him the wonderful tricks is new mobile phone could do. Shona and I sat in the kitchen and chatted. I didn’t particularly avoid any talk of God. She admits to feeling a little adrift right now, but not cast aside or cut off from God.
It was nice to drop back a little and walk beside her again for a few hundred yards – simply to remind her that she was in my thoughts.
Monday, January 01, 2007
Make it happen
I was standing in line waiting for my turn at the hole-in-the-wall cash machine and a poster in the bank window caught my eye. The slogan at the bottom of the poster was “Make it happen”. It was about taking out a bank loan or something, but for me is was just the active tense of the whole thing – Make it happen!
Ages ago, long before I met Joe, I thought I was in love with another man. I was one among many women who thought themselves in love with him. He had this particular idea of falling in love. For him it wasn’t the slow process of getting to know someone, going out on a few dates and over time coming to the realisation that they are the one. He was looking for the “love at first sight” kind of falling in love. A definite spark that was more than just general interest – that look across a crowded room moment. Needless to say, none of the “harem” that thought they loved him provided the spark, so he didn’t get romantically involved with anyone. He didn’t “Make it happen” because he didn’t see his spark.
His approach to love seemed to me to be rather passive. If it happens, it happens seems to me to be too casual. However, you can go to the other extreme of putting so much effort and energy into something and make it happen, when perhaps it wasn’t supposed to happen. Your own energy made give life to something, and it’s something you have created, not necessarily something God birthed inside of you.
When does “Make it happen” become my work and cease to be God’s work? “Make it happen” remains God’s when I whole heartedly engage with God’s purpose for my life and when His passions become mine.
I want to “Make it Happen” this year – wholeheartedly engage with God’s purpose for my life and allow His passions to become my own.
If that sounds a bit vague, it is a least a starting point.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Unused gifts
I asked for an MP3 player this year and last night I spent a bit of time learning how to use it. I uploaded the only CD I had to hand at the time – David Cassidy! I spent the rest of the evening bobbing up and down and singing out my favourite lines as I plugged myself in! This morning I added a worship CD to the list of stuff on the player. I feel “cool” and “with it”, although I have to admit that finding a comfortable place in my ear for the ear plugs takes me a while!
I was thinking earlier on in the week about the gifts that the wise men brought to Jesus. I am not aware that Jesus ever used any of them. When I think about a time when he needed money to pay taxes – he didn’t use the gold to do so, but sent a friend to catch a fish and the money needed was in the fish’s mouth. He didn’t use the frankincense – the gift of the priest - as he didn’t go into that part of the temple to burn it before the altar. He prayed on hilltops early in the morning and ministered to the lepers and tax collectors that the other priests had no time for. He didn’t get to use the myrrh either. A woman anointed his feet with perfume before his death, and before the women got to the tomb with their anointing oils, Jesus had risen from the dead and there was no body to anoint.
There are traditions about what happened to the gifts. Some traditions have Mary and Joseph selling the gifts to make ends meet and pay the bills. Another tradition had Judas lusting after the gold and stealing it. Another tradition had the boxes the gifts held being revered in a very old church in Russia somewhere.
There is also another story that talks about the baby Jesus giving gifts to the wise men. According to one tradition, Jesus gave them stones. They didn’t see the usefulness of the gifts and threw them down a well. The well exploded in a ball of fire and they realised that what was given should not be treated so shabbily. I did read on to the end of the story – but the bit about being given a gift and how I treat that gift matters really touched me. To treat a gift in a casual and careless manner says something about how you regard the gift giver.
Any way, back to Jesus’ unused gifts – what could you give to Jesus that he would make use of?
The Spirit’s answer? Yourself!
In Jesus’ hands, the gift of “myself” would not go unused. It is when I take myself out of Jesus’ hand that I become unused.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
"Triphina" living
I have been thinking quite a lot about a lady called Triphina. When I was in South Africa a number of years ago and one of the most vibrant churches I visited was in a black township on the outskirts of Durban. It had been lead by a man for a number of years, and when he had died, his wife assumed the leadership role. She was wonderful.
My thoughts have not really been about her role as a leader in the church and whether it is biblically sound or not – my thoughts at the time! I have been thinking about just the way she lived her life.
The black township was a place of poverty. It was reflected in the community. Apartheid had come to an end perhaps three or four years earlier, but the thinking was still in place. The black community did not think themselves equal with white people. They did not have the same opportunities or chances. There was a mentality that said “This is our place in life – accept it!” I think for many they had ceased to dream.
For them their whole environment was an excuse not to succeed in life. It was a kind of “Why bother? Nothing is really going to change,” attitude that pervaded everything they did. I realise that I am making some sweeping generalisations here.
Triphina was different. She had not made her living conditions an excuse not to triumph in life. As well as leading the church, she also ran two businesses. One was a sewing business, making and selling dresses. The other business was running a small shop. She grew vegetables and sold them – or gave them away to really needy people.
She lived in the black township, with all the limitations that everyone else had with lack of decent sanitation and clean water – but again, her home was as neat and tidy, comfortable and clean as possible. It was painted and decorated, unlike any homes in the township.
It was like she was flying a banner to say that you don’t have to live according to your circumstances. You don’t have to let the environment dictate the way that you live, or the way that you think. She was acting as salt and light – very powerfully.
I am so challenged by her lifestyle right now. I can make so many excuses about why my testimony is not as powerful as it could be. If I had nicer pupils, if I had new desks, if I was not teaching in a prefabricated hut – all these things are irrelevant. Triphina didn’t make excuses. She shone regardless.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Choosing to walk

I suppose that my husband had a very valid question this week. Last weekend, at church, we were being encouraged to get involved in each others lives, to ask for help, to offer to do something with or for someone We had written things on small slips of paper, and then looked through all the things on offer and chose one.
Why on earth would I choose to go for a walk with someone after a whole week of walking back and forth from school? I think the “choose” was the answer. All the other walks, I hadn’t really chosen to do. With the car off the road, the choice was made for me and the route was well walked and predictable. Here, I was choosing to walk, with someone I wanted to get to know better, somewhere I had not walked before.
We headed off to Tomatin Woods just outside Inverness. There were lots of very clearly marked trails. We walked in a circular route for about an hour, talking of all sorts of things. All that was missing was a dog, although one joined us for a wee while – a black and white spaniel type of dog, extremely wet from playing in the puddles!
We talked about jobs, and holidays, families and weddings, people we used to know and we talked about God. It was a satisfying conversation in lovely surroundings.
What came to me was just how much nicer walking is when you are with someone! I have a tendency to just do stuff myself, not really thinking of inviting anyone to join me. Sometimes I just like my own company, but often it’s because I don’t think they would want to come. It harks back to my pre-marriage days and not having a huge circle of friends, I would just take off by myself, simply because, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t ever go anywhere. I have got used to doing stuff by myself and it is nice to be reminded that sharing the experience makes it more satisfying.
However, walking with someone does have its limitations too. I kept to the path, where had I been on my own I would have wandered off the path – that is how I get lost so often! I see something interesting and have to go and have a closer look. I am tactile – I pick up stones with interesting colours or textures, I swirl my fingers around in puddles and stroke the bark on trees. And I dream…I work out plots of stories in my head, write opening paragraphs for a novel, or make up rhyming poetry couplets.
I shall have to find a fellow writer for my walks then I can have the best of both worlds – the company that I really did enjoy, and the freedom to touch stuff and to dream and make up poetry – which I missed.
Maybe that is the part of getting to know people better. Once I know people better I can drag them off the path to touch the bark on a tree and invite them swirl their fingers in a puddle with me!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
An army on the move
It was about quarter past eight in the morning. I had just walked into school – yet again! It was probably the sound that caught my attention first. Birds can make a lot of noise – but this was A LOT OF NOISE.
Right above my head the sky was full of birds. I don’t know what variety of birds, but there were lots of them. It took a good few minutes for the flock to pass. It was wave after wave after wave. I seriously thought about saluting – as if it was a squadron of bombers heading out for a dogfight with the Germans over the English Channel or something!
Just in front of me hopping around on the path was a couple of other birds. They may be flying south at a later date, or maybe they just stay around all year.
If I had been one of those birds hopping on the ground, I think that I might have been rather awestruck at the huge noisy flock heading south. I think I might have been a little bit envious that they were part of something huge, and obviously with a destination in mind.
I think sometimes I get to be a little like that in my Christian walk. There are some people that are just on the move and I am busy hopping around on the path! They have responded to a call which I don’t seem to have heard! They are spurring others on to reach a specific destination, perhaps a closer walk with Jesus, or a clearer understanding of the word, and I am hopping around on the path looking for worms!
I found the birds’ flight yesterday very inspiring! There is a call deep inside for that closer walk with God. There is a desire to be on the move and heading for a clear destination and I will be up there! Not by my own efforts, though. Not by straining and struggling and striving to be up there – but when the Holy Spirit says, “Now!”
Saturday, December 09, 2006
The mouse and the messages
Cheese and beetroot sandwiches loose their novelty eventually – and cheese is a weight watcher’s nightmare in terms of points. I had a genius idea of shopping on line. I have often thought that my mum’s problems of having to rely of my sister to do her shopping would be history if she did it all on line and it was all delivered to the door for her. The problem is that she wouldn’t spend enough on the shop to qualify.
So, I prepared to forage on line. It wasn’t time saving like they promised. Part of the problem was the dying mouse. The computer mouse is not as fast or as nimble as he used to be. Trying to get him to land on the tiny little squares to put ticks into certain boxes was not working well. After two hours I thought I had done the shopping and proceeded to the checkout. Naturally, it was only as I was leaving the virtual shop that I realised I had forgotten the toothpaste! They don’t let you pop back in for the one forgotten item!
It was an experience! This morning the bags were delivered to the door. For the most part I got what I asked for, apart from one or two things they didn’t have so they had given me something similar instead.
Was it more expensive? Probably yes! You don’t get a chance to pick out the things that are reduced because their sell by dates are due. And then there is a delivery charge to deal with too.
Will I do it again? Possibly yes! With Christmas marching toward me, and visions of end to end trolleys at the checkout, I think I may well go back to the virtual store
Friday, December 08, 2006
Slowly slowly
Andre, one of the Polish men, picked the card with “Joiner” written on it. Quite of few of the men there are in the building business, many of them joiners. I think Andre might also be a joiner. He began his acting out by pretending to light a cigarette, smoke it for a while, drink a cup of tea and then knock in some nails! There was no haste involved – but the job got done eventually.
I think that the people who are repairing my car are cut from the same cloth. Despite making arrangements to pick up the car last Friday, they finally collected it on the following Wednesday. It now appears that I won’t be mobile until next Wednesday – two days (the original estimate of when I would be back on the road) has turned into something much longer.
I have been walking back and forth from school and to mid-week church meetings and I can safely say that the novelty has worn off! I might be accumulating some Weight Watcher bonus points but, to be honest, I walk at such a slow pace – particularly on the homeward journey – that I am probably not earning that many extra fro the time involved!
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Missing Abdul
Work is being done on the new school building – just preliminaries. The builders have fenced off a bit of the school car park. Although the builders are not supposed to park there, they do. This morning, one person had parked his car skew-whiff, abandoning his car in such a way to make four of the parking bays unusable. I thought maybe I had been too busy muttering about it this morning to check my lights!
The AA man recognised the car, and me – he has changed the tyre once and jump started me twice! This time, however, it was bad news. It was something to do with a cracked gasket and he explained perfectly what has been happening to the disappearing water. The dryness I mentioned weeks ago was nothing to with neglect from me. That’s kind of comforting!
The AA man went through all the little things that might have been happening over the last few weeks – curious smells, smoke coming out of things, disappearing water, white residue on the top of the water cap. These little things that you maybe notice but don’t really register all add up to one big thing that costs a lot of time and money to fix.
You see, this is where being car illiterate, or a mechanical numpty, really gets you into trouble. I could be driving a death trap and not know about it. When I moved back to live with my parents after coming back from Cyprus, I owned a mini. It was red and it was wonderful and I loved it dearly. The man across the road, a Sikh gentleman, called Abdul, loved my mini too. He used to spend hours tinkering under the bonnet and he knew everything about cars and stuff.
Right now I miss Abdul! I don’t have an Abdul. No one tinkers under the bonnet of my cars anymore. Abdul would have known what all the little clues added up to. I would have been warned about a huge repair bill looming over the horizon.
Well, the conclusion of it all, apart from cancelling Christmas, is that a mechanic from a garage is coming to collect the car tomorrow, have a look at it and start ordering bits. Yet again, Cinderella’s carriage becomes a pumpkin and I get to walk. There is an upside – I should loose some serious weight with all the exercise!
I am pretty much feeling like drowning my sorrows with an Indian takeaway – it memory of Abdul.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
It's just a phase
My mother retreated behind a mantra – “It’s just a phase she’s going through.” The phase has lasted quite a while now and I would like to think that I have softened a little since those early days!
I think my body has been repeating that same mantra since I began attending Weight Watchers – “It’s just a phase she’s going through”. It may well be right! Up till now I have always lost something, even just the half pound – but yesterday I stayed the same. I had not put on any weight, not taken any off.
A part of me would like to blame the jumper I was wearing! It was a winter jumper of thick wool and cables! I had dressed for walking to work in the morning, and after school I walked around to Weight Watchers. The truthful bit of me would blame the curry and nan bread at the weekend, and the slice of chocolate cake to celebrate someone’s birthday!
I think I may just have hit the part of the diet where the body doesn’t like it anymore. The novelty of counting points and eating Nimble bread has worn off and it craves chocolate! It is not about to be pawned off with a drink of Options low-calorie hot chocolate. That is a poor substitute. It wants to old Mel back! It was at this point in my previous attempts to lose weight that I gave up as it all seemed too hard to keep going.
I can’t think of a time in my walk with Jesus that I have ever some to a point of really thinking about giving up. I have thought about giving up with churches, or with individual people – but my faith? No. I love the person that Jesus reveals me to be through our relationship – I see what I am becoming and what I am leaving behind, and there is no comparison.
I suppose weight-wise I also like the person I am becoming – the one that does not need to head for the “Plus” rail in the dress shop! Which is why I will fight on!
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Dry days
Not so long ago we got labelled as a health promoting school. It wasn’t just about introducing healthy options in the school canteen but also raising health awareness among the staff. There was a rash of things for staff including a lady that came to do various massages, classes for yoga and meditation, and a million leaflets scattered about the place about diets and dealing with stress.
A friend was leafing through one of the leaflets to compare her eating habits with the “ideal”. She decided that she was probably eating too much protein, enough fruit and vegetables, and possibly not enough of the complex carbohydrates! She was pretty much convinced that she was not drinking enough water.
When I first joined Weight Watchers, I did try to increase my water intake. It seriously disrupted my carefully timed toilet breaks! In any other environment, toilet attendance is probably not so strictly worked out – but my life is directed by bells. In my pre-weight watching existence, toilet breaks coincided with break time and lunchtime. After trying to drink more water, things went a little awry! There are some classes where I need to be in the room when they arrive. If they are allowed access to the snibs on the door – they will lock themselves in and grin at you as you helplessly knock and wait to be let in. I could afford to allow a first year class to wait for me, but not a fourth year class. My bladder did not seem to be able to make the distinction so I returned to my old water drinking habits!
I still try to drink more but recognise that my body is probably in a permanent state of dehydration! I am not sure that my body would know what to do with the excess!
It came as quite a shock to discover yesterday that my car engine was seriously dehydrated too! The plan yesterday was to join some friends for a friendly quiz night at King’s Fellowship in Culloden. Driving to pick up Joe on the way, I noticed the temperature gauge in the car was not just steadily rising but overheating at a tremendous rate. It was well into the red bit, which I assume is not good. In a panic I drove home. I wasn’t sure what the car might do, but I envisioned that it would involve lots of smoke and a huge garage bill.
A friend told us that it sounded like the water in the radiator needed topping up, and at the end of the evening, at half past ten at night, bonnet up, in the torch light, checked out his theory. He was right – extremely right. Bone-dry so it was.
You see I am not mechanically literate. I had hoped long ago that my wonderful husband would learn to drive, pass his test and take on the mantle of car maintenance. It’s a boy thing – along with “slugs and snails and puppy dog tails”. Car oil levels, spark plugs and radiators – it’s boy stuff. I can do the air freshener that hangs from the mirror, and keep the glove compartment relatively tidy – but underneath the bonnet, all those tubes and stuff – that is boy stuff! And yet as the driver of the family I have the responsibility thrust upon me!
May be it is time to enrol in the car maintenance class and not just think about doing it!
There is a refrain from a worship song that is running through my head “Your word is a lamp unto my feet, Your Spirit like water to my soul.” In the body water flushes out toxins and joins the blood in transporting red blood cells and oxygen around the body, in my car the water keeps everything cool and prevents the engine from overheating.
The water of the Holy Spirit does a similar job – taking the oxygen teaching of Jesus and transporting it to nurture my spirit. He flushes out the toxins – attitudes and thoughts that if left unchallenged would prove harmful. He prevents me from overheating, by being the small still voice of faith and reason that keeps me from loosing it!
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Silence is golden
In the middle of the story is the parable about two people who owe money. One owes just a little, the other owes a great amount. Both have their debts cancelled. (Actually, that is kind of relevant for my third year classes – we are looking at the Debt Crisis and the Drop the Debt campaign – cancelling debts!). Neither could pay their debt – so it did not matter who owed the most. If you owe someone ten pounds and you don’t have the money, you might as well owe them a hundred pounds – you still don’t have the money.
What really struck me about the woman’s encounter with Jesus is her silence. She never said a word. Simon did not say much either come to think about it. The woman never confessed her sins to Jesus. She never tried to defend her lifestyle or the choices that she had made. She never blamed anyone or society for the way things had turned out. She never spoke at all, and yet through her actions she spoke volumes!
Her silence challenges me. She doesn’t list the individual crimes or give details about when they happened or who was there. To stand in front of someone knowing that they do not need to know the details – they know how bad it is, and you know how bad it is – and that is enough, is something so humble.
Words put limits on things. The minute you begin to use words to describe something, you set up boundaries. No words – no boundaries. The bad state of things is just too bad to put into words. We are so careful that people don’t think the worst of us that we are careful to describe exactly what we have or haven’t done.
She is allowing him to think the worst of her. I know that God knows everything about me, but deep down I also want him not to think badly of me. Her silence says – “Think what you will. I can offer no excuses. I simply come before you. Do what you must.”
Jesus accepts everything – the silence and all that it means. His grace reaches out and embraces her.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
The dog ate my homework
Jo, the class leader, was talking yesterday about making excuses for ourselves. We can justify why we are as overweight as we are – it’s the medication that we are on, or we are just big boned people, or it’s in the genes or …. you know how it goes! These things are just excuses and they don’t really hold up under scrutiny.
I was praying this morning. I spoke on Sunday about asking for help. The basis of the word was the story in Acts 3 where Peter and John are God’s instruments in healing a lame man. I made the point that they had passed the man on a number of occasions and never noticed him. Indeed, it was the man himself that initiated the encounter by asking for help. Peter and John were just walking by. Why did they not see him? Why did the Spirit not provoke them into action?
I think too some extent that beggars around the Temple were so common place that people accepted their presence without thinking. It was just normal life and just the way things were, so they didn’t question whether there was an alternative. The beggars were part of the scenery and almost invisible.
I was challenged about what things have become so acceptable to me they have become invisible and unquestioned. We have a family where the mother and her children are part of the church family, but the father isn’t. I accept his absence when I shouldn’t. Just as it grieves God that this is an incomplete family in the church, it should grieve me too. There is a history – an unpleasant history – of his encounter with the church in earlier years that wasn’t good. It left wounds and scars which have not really healed.
This morning as I was praying for the family, I was focussing on what we as a church had done wrong so many years ago, and apologising to God for making His job that much harder. God spoke clearly about the problem no longer being about us. We were not the same bunch of people. The problem was that what had happened long ago had been made an excuse not to become involved.
It is far easier to maintain what you think to be the truth about a group of people, or an individual, rather than to seek a fresh view. To think that the person you knew five years, or ten years ago, has never changed is unrealistic. People change – but we hold on to who we think they are from our past experience. We make it an excuse to polish the grudge, or sharpen the hatchet.
We have a choice. We can forgive and move forward, or hold resentment in our heart and stay stuck in the mud of stubbornness.
I am learning to forgive.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
What are you doing this weekend?
When they are discussing weekend plans they ask around. My answer to the question of what I was going to do at the weekend was “I have a sermon to prepare as I am preaching on Sunday.” I wouldn’t say that I am a closet Christian by any means, but no one had ever asked me before about my weekend plans, and it just so happened to be me preaching. They were fascinated – what was I going to talk about? How many people would be listening? Did anyone have any problems with a woman preaching? How often did I preach? What was my church like? It was an open door to a flood of questions.
It was also an open door to a flood of comments about their own church experiences. One of the new teachers had a father who was or had been a lay preacher. Another teacher had attended a Plymouth Brethren church for a short while. It was interesting and very animated.
My sermon is all ready! Our church leader, Mark, has introduced a new structure for people involved in preaching and worship. The preacher needs to pass on the topic a week in advance so that if the worship leader wants to link in songs they can do.
My first inclination was to think the structure left no space for my usual last minute preparation and wasn’t it all stifling to the Holy Spirit? The Holy Spirit answered quite promptly, “I can fit in with a weeks notice. Don’t you worry about me, Mel!” So out went the “What if God doesn’t talk to me a week in advance?” misgivings, and in came a confident declaration that, yes, the Holy Spirit can fit in with the week in advance! The topic flowed from a (phone) conversation I had with my mum and the bible context and verses came from another (cyberspace) conversation. It has all been pretty painless, but rather exciting too. I guess I am learning to simply listen and not agonise.
And to top it all – I don’t have five pages of notes with a million Bible references. I did a mind map! One single side of A4 paper with colour coded boxes and lots of arrows! Cool or what? I have preached the sermon a dozen times to an invisible audience in my head and there were no hecklers! See how flexible I can be if I try?
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Is Something Wrong?
Is Something Wrong?
by Glenn A. Hascall
What if we’ve created an illusion of what Christianity is supposed to be?
What if we’ve convinced ourselves that grace doesn’t mind intentional sin?
What if we’ve convinced ourselves the filthy rags we wear are something grand and glorious?
What if we’re wrong?
Have we been so busy fashioning a world that caters to our needs that we’ve forgotten we are warriors in a strange land?
Have we forgotten we’re on a journey while we set up a paradise on earth?
Have we forgotten our Captain while we crown other sheep?
What have we done?
The church today provides a coffee shop and café while the world outside the doors thinks we’ve dedicated a country club to ‘our kind’.
The church today makes youth group so cool that even non-Christians can come and still miss out on their need for something more.
Christian radio is so cool the whole family can enjoy it.
We wield political power – we lobby for our cause – we mobilize those who should be sharing their faith into a force for political change.
We gather with God’s people by satellite feed and miss face-to-face interaction.
We relegate those gatherings to one event a week.
Yet
We
Know
Something
Is
WRONG.
We are NOT strangers in a strange land anymore. We have forgotten how to read our maps so we’ve settled for a second rate hotel in the low rent district – never sharing good news – never weeping for the lost – never longing for home.
What draws us deep into a relationship with Jesus? A four-minute song, a five-minute devotional, or a two-minute radio thought or a touching video?
How much is enough?
Have we found it too much?
Do we yearn for more?
Do we?
Can we?
Will we?
Flat batteries
Actually I am not sure who has the flattest battery – me or the car! Joe spent the latter part of the week coughing and spluttering everywhere. Doing my Florence Nightingale impersonation was enough for me to catch the cold. I am a bit bunged up and my brain is slowly turning to mush. I admit that I don’t fight these things off, or put up much resistance. I pretty much roll over and surrender. One or two days off school has its attractions.
The trouble is that all the nice things I think I will do during those two days – like catch up with some writing, or reading a book or making in-roads into the ironing pile just don’t happen because I feel too unwell!